


poikilotherm

by squilf



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Flustered!Aziraphale, Garden of Eden, M/M, Sharing Body Heat, Snake!Crowley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 17:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19213810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squilf/pseuds/squilf
Summary: poikilotherm, n.an organism that cannot regulate its body temperature except by behavioural means such as basking or burrowing. (or, in some cases, begging an angel for body heat).





	poikilotherm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SheoftheTea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheoftheTea/gifts).



> Written for SheoftheTea’s prompt:  
>  _I've always been a sucker for fics exploring Crowley's serpent side, whether it's turning into a snake and slithering around just to annoy Aziraphale, or having traits like sensitivity to cold and bothering Aziraphale for his body heat. Basically, anything involving Crowley being a little shit to Aziraphale is great by me, lol._

“I’m _cold_ ,” Crawly says.

He’s curled up on a rock in the Garden. He’s _meant_ to be causing chaos in the realm of men, of course, but snakes do have to warm themselves up in the morning, and this is usually a sunny spot.

“Well, you know where it’s warmer,” says Aziraphale.

Aziraphale, the angel. Aziraphale, who is kind, and sweet, and possibly, maybe the main reason why Crawly’s really here. Potentially.

“You want me to go?” Crawly says, yawning and giving Aziraphale a rather spectacular view of his enormous fangs.

“You’re my enemy,” Aziraphale says primly, albeit slightly distracted at the sight of his teeth, “Of… of course I want you to go.”

“Of courssse. Keeping the ssserpent out of Eden is your job, after all.”

Aziraphale looks down, a blush rising in his cheeks. They talk, sometimes. Aziraphale does most of the talking, about everything and nothing. Crawly likes to watch him, the way his face lights up and his hands flutter around like moths. He’s lonely out here, Crawly thinks.

Aziraphale looks like he’s about to leave, but Crawly lazily twines his body around Aziraphale’s ankles, stopping him short.

“Mmm, you’re warm,” he observes.

“What are you doing?” Aziraphale says, slightly panicked.

“Nothing,” Crawly drawls, slowly making his way up Aziraphale’s legs.

“No,” Aziraphale says, “Absolutely not!”

Crawly’s unperturbed, wrapping himself around the angel.

“Do you know what will happen to me if anyone finds me like this?” Aziraphale says, incredibly flustered, “Entwined with – with a serpent of hell?!”

“Jussst as well they won’t find you,” Crawly says, his forked tongue flicking out and touching Aziraphale’s cheek.

“You mean – you…” Aziraphale stammers.

“Yesss. We could get up to all sssorts and no one would know.”

“You really _are_ very wicked.”

Crawly pulls himself tighter around Aziraphale – nothing that would hurt, just the same pressure of a hug – and rests his chin on Aziraphale’s shoulder.

He could do more, of course. He could ruin this angel with the pretty pale eyes, like he ruined the first man and woman on earth. But he’s content to stay here, warming himself on his body, and breathe.

“Not nearly enough, angel.”


End file.
